We are not friends
by Wolfpack pride
Summary: "When nothing is sure, everything is possible." Draco and Hermione are not friends. They may both be in the Order and staying at the same safe house but they are not friends. But sometimes, a non-friend is just what you need. Dramione
1. A look in the future

A/N: This started as one of those things where you hear a song or read a quote and just have to replicate that feeling in a story. This story is technically inspired by the quote by Joseph Campell "Suddenly you're ripped into being alive. And Life is _pain_ , and life is _suffering_ , and life is _horror_. But my God, you're **_alive_** and its _spectacular_." It was originally posted on my tumblr (username over there is draco-and-granger) under the name Nothing is sure (based on the quote "When nothing is sure, everything is possible).

I hope you enjoy.

It's set during the war and Draco has joined the order with Snape.

* * *

Harry approached the bed slowly. Jonathan, the only healer in the order, had explained to him that Hermione had been hit with a curse that was very slow and difficult to counteract. She was unconscious but stable for the time being but she wouldn't be out of the woods for quite some time and there were still a lot of things that could go wrong. They were very clear that he shouldn't get his hopes up but as he walked in, she looked so peaceful. It was easy to pretend she was just sleeping rather than in some sort of coma.

"Hey, Hermione." He said somberly as he grabbed her hand. "You've gotta wake up now. You know that this whole thing only works because of you. You, me, Ron, the order? Everything only works because of you. You keep us all together, you keep us sane. I know that's a lot of work so it's understandable that you'd want to take a break and sleep for a while but it's been three days. You've gotta wake up now.

You're too important not too. Too special."

He choked back the sobs that threatened to escape.

"So um, Molly is just going mad cleaning everything she possibly can. I swear she thinks you're sleeping because the house was dirty and if she gets it spotless, everything will be fine. I suppose that's not the worst reaction though. You should still come back though before she scrubs through the floor boards and falls through. Ginny and Ron miss you. And I miss you.

I guess its hard to notice just how much of your life is filled by someone until they aren't there anymore and you can feel the emptiness where they're supposed to be. I wish I'd never known just how important you are to me. I wish I never had to feel this emptiness. You have to wake up, Hermione."

Harry probably could have continued on for much longer but he heard footsteps coming down the hall and the healers had already caught him after telling him to get some sleep the last two nights and he feared they'd prevent him from visiting at all if they found him one more time so late. The wizard quickly cast a disillusionment charm and ducked outside the room just as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs outside Hermione's room.

Harry's eyes went wide as he saw that rather than a healer, it was Draco who had gone into visit Hermione. Draco had been working for the order for some time now but it was still disturbing to have to view the blond wizard as an ally.

Draco pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat silently for a while.

When he spoke, it was slow and deliberate. "I never planned for this, you know? I didn't sit up one night and decide that this was something I wanted.

It sort of crept up on me, I suppose. I didn't fall for you…as if it was as simple as tripping down the stairs. It snuck up on me and before I even noticed, I was too entwined to escape it.

I suppose that rather irritates you, the illogical nature of it all. You always did hate things that didn't make sense. Even magic, which isn't supposed to make sense, you somehow figured out how to understand.

But some things are just random and aren't part of any greater purpose. They just are what they are.

We are what we are, Granger. I'm still trying to figure out what that means. How am I ever supposed to figure it out if you're not with me?"

He went very still for a moment.

"Granger? Hermione? I know we agreed not to ask anything of one another, but I'm asking. Come back to me."

He paused to gently sweep the hair away and press a small kiss to her forehead.

"Just come back to me."

And with that, he left the room.

Harry lingered outside the room for a moment longer trying to piece together what he just witnessed. With one final shake of his head, he resolved to go to bed.


	2. Definitely not friends

**A/N:** Part two. This should end up with 3-4 chapters so not real long.

* * *

 **11 Months earlier:**

Hermione stared straight ahead. _How was the world still spinning? How were they supposed to go on with their lives?_

Neville was dead.

There was no uncertainty or maybe's about it. Dead.

 _How could they keep fighting when at any moment, their friends could die?_

In her mind, she understood that war meant casualties and not all of those casualties would be wearing white masks. Hermione had never been so aware of the difference between knowing something intellectually and actually accepting it as fact as she was in that moment.

She couldn't stand to be in the same room as Harry and Ron and everyone else she cared about knowing they could be ripped away without warning. She couldn't look at them without seeing images of their eyes glazed over and empty after a flash of green light fades away. She just couldn't look at them.

Hermione slipped out the back door intending to sit on the porch swing and pessimistically wonder if every victory would be phyrric in nature. Apparently the porch was more popular than she expected as sitting on the swing was none other than Draco Malfoy holding a bottle of firewhiskey. She looked at him and waited for the guilt and images to come. They never did.

Draco glanced up from his study of the bottle in his hands and looked at her intently and waited for her to speak.

"We're not friends." Hermione said after a pause. She didn't say it to be mean, it was simply a statement of fact.

He nodded in agreement. "No, we're not." He affirmed as he took a drink. It had been a rough night all around.

"Well, a non-friend with whiskey is just what I need tonight. Scoot over."

He complied and as she sat down, handed her the bottle. They sat in silence until the sun began to peak over the tops of the mountains and the firewhiskey had long since run dry.

Hermione slowly rose to standing, stretching out as her legs protested from being in the same position for hours. She turned to go back inside but turned back, "Malfoy…thanks."

"For what? Not being your friend?" He chuckled and for the first time since the battle, Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up.

"Kinda."

"Anytime, Granger."

* * *

The next battle had a much better outcome for the Order. No casualties and they'd eliminated a large number of the enemy. That had been the phrased used when the reports came back to the Order members.

The group in the safe house together erupted in shouts and cheers. Any day where everyone comes home is a day for celebration. Except for a certain blond.

Hermione found Draco sitting out on the porch after the sun had set, once again with a half empty bottle of firewhiskey. He glanced up at her almost resentfully. "We're not friends. Sit."

At the sound of her words from last time (and a heaping of curiosity), She did as he asked. "No, we're not."

"Wanna know how I know that?" He said with mildly drunken numbness and handed her the bottle, "because my friend died today."

Hermione gasped and he glared harder. "I'm sor-"

"I don't want your sympathy." He cut her off. "Blaise is… Blaise was the 'enemy.' That's why everyone's celebrating right?"

Suddenly the sounds of joy coming from the other room were cruel rather than comforting. Hermione was frozen, trying to find the words to respond.

"Don't think, Granger. Drink."

And that was that.

* * *

It became an odd routine. After a particularly rough day, they'd end up on the porch with a bottle in between them. Over time, the days didn't need to be so rough for them to find themselves there.

Draco approached the back door almost hesitantly. He'd seen Hermione pass through half an hour ago with a bottle in her hand. Thus far, she'd always been the one to initiate in the odd routine they had fallen into. After a moment's deliberation, Draco grit his teeth and opened the door.

"We're not friends." Hermione told him as he stepped out. She wasn't seated on the stairs like he'd been expecting but was pacing back and forth.

"No, we're not."

"Good because my friends are prats."

Draco smiled. This was going to be interesting.

"Well certainly this can't be a recent discovery." He said smugly.

He got a glare in return which he ignored.

"They want me to take a 'more passive role' in the war. Unbelievable!" The witch fumed. "I'm not taking a more 'passive role.' Why should I? I'm perfectly capable. I'm more capable. For years, I am the only reason those two managed to accomplish anything and now they just want me to…to what, sit out? To warm the bench for a while? No."

Draco watched in amusement as the woman in front of him got more and more into her rant.

"Why should I sit out? Now, really. Is there a single reason they can come up with aside from my gender? No, there's not. I'm gonna sit back like some little school while the boys go off to war. I can help and I'm gonna help. That is for damn sure." She continued with the bottle seemingly forgotten in her hand.

"It's absurd and unreasonable. Magic has nothing to do with muscle mass. Dueling relies on speed and intelligence and I beat them both in those areas. So what if I'm a little shorter than they are? That just means I'm a smaller target to hit. Really, it's an advantage!" She turned to Draco suddenly and it took him a moment to realize she was waiting for him to respond.

He tried to keep himself from smiling but it was a losing battle. Before long he was laughing, which only made Hermione turn red, which made Draco laugh even harder.

"I'm sorry, Granger but do you hear yourself when you speak?" He mocked as he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't recall the last time he actually laughed.

Hermione huffed and paused in her pacing long enough to smack his arm. "This is not funny! They cornered me and stupidly asked me to sit out from now on. As if I would ever agree to that!"

"Well if this is your reaction, I promise to never ask anything of you." Draco continued to have that smug amused look on his face.

Hermione grudgingly smiled back.

* * *

Hermione slipped outside when everyone else was asleep. It had been a pretty average day with nothing particularly exciting happening but it was a warm summer evening and sitting outside just sounded nice.

That's the only reason she came to the porch. Honestly. It had nothing to do with a Slytherin that had an uncanny knack for knowing whenever she passed through that back door. It was just a nice night.

Within 15 minutes. The door creaked as it opened. Hermione didn't glance up as a man settled in next to her on the steps. She passed him a plate of cookies.

Sensing his confusion, she explained as she grabbed a cookie of her own. "I couldn't find any firewhiskey but Molly made some cookies so…."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

This had to have been the 15th time they'd sat together in the 6 months since Neville died. It was getting harder to write it off as coincidences and this time, they couldn't even pretend they were just here for the alcohol.

Hermione was still putting together what that meant.

"Hey, Malfoy?" Hermione started hesitantly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them, "We're…friends."

Draco turned to glare at the witch sitting next to him but it was very difficult to look intimidating when you had a mouth full of chocolate chip cookie. Hermione decided to seize the opportunity as there was no way perfect pureblood Malfoy would speak with his mouth full.

"There's no denying it. I guess we just have to accept the fact. I'll see you later, I suppose. " With that, she went back inside and went to bed before she could over analyze she and Draco's interactions to date.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading and please review. Also, come talk to me on tumblr ( draco-and-granger) as I'm starting a dramione fan fiction book club type deal that should be pretty fun.


	3. Fine, we're not friends

**A/N:** Here is the rest of the story. I haven't decided yet if I want to tie it back up to the present as it has a happy ending if we pretend it ends after this chapter. So maybe I'll continue, but probably not. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

Hermione was fully prepared to spend the night on the porch alone. She knew Malfoy had a bad track record of being able to deal with emotions and had a tendency to isolate himself when anyone tried to get close. She figured he'd stay away for maybe a month. He may even avoid eye contact at dinner for a while if he was feeling particularly cornered. She had made peace with that.

Thus, she nearly jumped when the sound of the back door opening startled her.

"Feeling a little skittish there, Granger?" a smooth voice came from behind her as she calmed her heart rate back to normal.

She turned to the blond joining her and was torn between glaring and grinning. He actually showed up.

"It's a sign of good reflexes. A very handy skill actually." She calmly informed him, trying to mask how pleased she was to have been wrong for once.

He scoffed but dropped the issue as he sat down beside her. He handed her a soda.

"No firewhiskey and no cookies. What is the world coming to?" He said with mirth in his voice. That kind of comment would not have been welcome just a few short months ago when the Order seemed to be fighting an uphill battle and losing more and more of their own in every fight. Now, things seemed to be turning around. Everyone was a little less stressed as the war seemed to be slowly winding to a close.

Hermione laughed and popped open her can. It consistently surprised her how relaxed she now felt in the presence of the man beside her.

"What will you do after the war?" She asked him, genuinely curious.

"I was supposed to take over running the Malfoy estate and keeping up with the various business ventures my father had invested in so he could retire. Now, the Malfoy fortune has been mostly spent trying to fund a psychopath's play time and any influence the Malfoy name once held will be worthless after the fighting is done so that's out." Oddly, he didn't sound all that disappointed by this change.

"Ok, that's what you were supposed to do. What do you want to do? Like growing up, what was your dream job?" Hermione pressed.

Draco let out a small embarrassed laugh and scratched the back of his neck.

"I, uh, I wanted to bake. Before I was informed of the responsibilities that came with my last name, I wanted to open a bakery."

Hermione had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping. "You wanted to bake? Like cookies and cakes, baking? I always pegged you for a potioneer or curse breaker."

"Well baking and potions aren't all that different. You mix things and heat things and add different ingredients and you get something amazing at the end. I don't know if that's what I'll do after the war but when I was little, that's what I wanted " He shrugged again as if trying to lessen the shock-value of his words. "What will you do?"

Hermione couldn't get enough of the mental image of a 6 year old Draco trying to stir up some brownies and getting flour all over the floor in the process.

"I…before I knew about the wizarding world, I wanted to be an archeologist. It seemed so full of adventures and discovery and I always liked history and figuring out why things are the way they are."

She knew she was rambling and looked up expecting to see the glazed over look that she was so used to getting. Once again, she was surprised.

Instead of silence, they spent the night discussing everything from their favorite dessert to the story of their first time getting drunk and their biggest fears.

Eventually, the yawns got longer than the space in between them and it was time to go inside before they both were found asleep on the porch with the sun shining down.

Draco stood and offered a hand to Hermione.

"We're not friends, Granger."

"Yeah, we'll see about that, Malfoy."

* * *

A week later, Hermione found Draco sitting on what had become their spot and without even questioning it, went out to join him.

She sat beside him for a while before finally asking the question that had been burning on her mind for ages.

"What's so wrong with the concept of us being friends? If we were back at Hogwarts, I'd understand. If this was 3 years ago, I'd understand. If you still believed all that crap about blood purity, which I know you don't, I'd understand. But now, after us sitting out here on the porch fairly regularly for what, almost 10 months? What's so wrong with us being friends?"

Draco turned to her with that smug grin on his face like he had just figured out how to win a game of chess and his opponent had no idea.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with it, per se. We just aren't."

Hermione knew he was baiting her and waiting for her to play into whatever game he had in mind, but she couldn't resist.

"And just why would that be, Draco? Do _indulge_ me with your logic in this matter." She said while rolling her eyes.

Draco laughed, like truly laughed.  
"Oh Granger, well I don't know about you, but I tend not to find myself attracted to my friends."

Her mental gears were turning as she processed what he was implying. As she was piecing together the words of her response, Draco leaned in and kissed her.

As he pulled away, he grinned that smug smile.

"See, Granger? We're not friends."

* * *

 **Thanks for indulging in my super quick little story.**


	4. Wish we were

AN: Ok so I decided to tie it back up with the beginning but you may regret asking me to add another installment haha. It's very short, I know. This takes place immediately after chapter 1 so you may want to quickly browse over that to get back up to speed. There's a slim chance I may give it a happier ending if I feel particularly inspired.

* * *

 _Present day:_

Draco sat on the porch with his head in his hands trying to clear his mind. He was alone…and there would be no one coming out to join him.

He wished he could go back and re-do every conversation he'd had with her. He'd been so smug and cavalier about everything, trying to ignore what was happening. What other option was there? Draco Malfoy, death eater extraordinaire, couldn't very well walk up to the brightest witch of their age and…what, ask to hold hands?

It took him a long time to even realize he wanted to do cheesy sweet things like that with her. By the point he noticed that he no longer despised being near her, he was too far gone. He couldn't stop himself from getting deeper and deeper every time they went out to that same stupid spot on the porch. He didn't exactly have a lot of experience with dealing with feelings. At least he'd finally shown her how he felt before she was injured.

His brief conversation, if you could call it that if one partner is unconscious, with Hermione earlier that night had been the first time he'd been alone with her since that night.

Draco stood up and left the porch. That spot had become a place of comfort over the last year but it didn't seem to help him tonight.

* * *

Four days. Four days later, Hermione opened her eyes. Draco longed to immediately rush to her side as soon as he heard but she was surrounded by her friends and he didn't think he'd be welcome.

After all, he wasn't Hermione's _friend._


	5. The End

**A/N: Soo... I know I've said this story is over and it was, really until I reread it today and had to write something to close it up now, truly this is the end. Maybe a year from now I'll reread it and want to add more but at least I think this is the end anyway, enough rambling, here you go.**

* * *

Draco didn't want to be out on the porch. In fact, he wanted to be anywhere but the porch. It was cold and windy and no number of cushioning charms made the steps remotely comfortable to sit on for any length of time. He didn't want to be there. But despite all that, he really just didn't want to be there without her.

Somehow, he kept finding himself back there, night after night on that same stupid step. It was the only place the air felt clear enough to think.

"Hey," Hermione said as she cautiously sat down on the step beside him.

He would have jumped had he not had so much practice suppressing such signs of "weakness" as his father had called them. How had he not heard her approach?

Draco looked at her with a furrowed brow for a long moment trying to find the right words to say. Malfoy so we're not ones to find themselves tongue tied often. Normally, out here, he'd say something sarcastic and maybe a little charming but nothing seemed appropriate now. He'd felt so small sitting at her bedside begging her to wake up and give them a chance to see what they could be. There was no way he could be that vulnerable now that she was awake.

"So imagine my surprise when I woke up and found myself surrounded by all the friends I could ask for when what I actually wanted was the one person who isn't my friend." She looked at him pointedly with playful irritation sparking in her eyes.

Draco cleared his throat and tried for a smile, "well it seemed like cheating on the porch steps to hang out with you anywhere else."

She laughed at his awkward attempt at dodging the point of her comments. Maybe he had lost interest while she was asleep. But he was still here in what had become "their spot" so maybe he hadn't. If she'd learned one thing from this war, it was that wasting time hiding feelings just wasn't worth it when you never know what tomorrow will bring.

She scooted closer to him on the step and grabbed his hand into hers. Draco sat as still as he could, waiting for something to happen and tell him that this wasn't allowed. Tell him that she had never actually woken up and this was a dream. Tell him that he'd never be good enough.

He waited for it...but nothing came. Instead, that easy, comfortable rhythm they'd had before her injury settled over them once again and Hermione was talking animatedly about how she'd really like to get another cat after the war ended or maybe a dog this time. Wizards didn't seem to have dogs as pets and that seemed odd to her since everyone knows dogs are man's best friend. As she rambled, Draco kept catching himself glancing down at his hand still grasped in hers and thought if after the war, he could still sit on some porch (maybe one with a comfy swing even) and just hold her hand, he'd be far luckier than he had ever thought he'd be.

* * *

Eventually, the people in the house realized their Sleeping Beauty had wandered off and went to find her.

Harry approached the screen door and Hermione met him in the doorway.

He gave her a small hug, his gaze bouncing between her and where Draco was left on the porch step.

"What's up, Harry?" Hermione asked after taking a small step back, noting his confused expression.

"I didn't know you two were... friends, I guess."

Hermione shot Draco a smile as she looked back over her shoulder, "Oh yeah, we're not."

* * *

 **Thanks again everyone!**


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